


Though much is taken, much abides

by Hope Savage (Ananais)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 16:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ananais/pseuds/Hope%20Savage
Summary: In her dreams, they are helpless, scared and easy to pick off one by one. Teyla dreams of her present and future. Pre-series.





	Though much is taken, much abides

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written under the author name janelane18 on livejournal.

_Though much is taken, much abides; and though_  
_We are not now that strength which in old days_  
_Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;_  
_One equal temper of heroic hearts,_  
_Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will_  
_To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield._  
Ulysses - Tennyson

   
Even now in the new hunting camp, Teyla still sometimes sees them out of the corners of her eye. They follow her into her dreams, the scream of the darts, heavy footfalls of the scouts. The people run screaming into the forest for protection; her brother’s hand is cold in hers as she pulls him along behind her through the tangled undergrowth.

In her dreams, the Wraith scouts are huge and monstrous. There are other children with them, crying and huddling together. They are lost and afraid in the darkness, easy targets for the Wraith, who seem to appear out of thin air and close in on them.

Suddenly, her mother is there, throwing herself at the Wraith, sticks a blur of motion, yelling for the children to run. Teyla pulls her brother and the nearest child, ordering the rest to follow her away. She glances back at her mother, hoping she is following too.   
  
In her dreams, her mother is behind her, the Wraith dead on the ground. In her dreams, Teyla tells the children to run for the caves, turns back and fights alongside her mother. But in this nightmare as in the memory, that one moment is the last she sees of her mother. Her mother never makes it to the caves.

  
In her dreams, she watches her brother disappear in a flash of light. She is older, but not old enough. She lets go of his hand in the confusion, and he bolts back for the tents screaming for their father. Tagan is fighting Wraith on the southern edge, giving them time to escape. She is supposed to be taking him to hide.

In her dreams, she runs after him, her legs eating up the distance in a moment, pulls him away from the beam. In her dreams, she never lets go. But in reality she runs after the dart, her legs are too small, too slow to catch them. In that moment, she believed her father dead like her mother and her brother gone. Kanaan pulls her away to the safety of the trees when she would have stayed, screaming and crying on the ground for them to take her too. She has her mother’s sticks, but nothing of her brother’s, as if he was never there at all.

  
In her dreams they come after her, too. She tries to fight them, but they are always too strong and too many. She wakes when she feels the touch of their cold hands. She shakes in fear and wants to scream and cry for her father to come save her and stay with her until the nightmares go away. She wants to borrow deep into her bed and hide from everything, but she knows she can’t. There isn’t enough time to hide.

  
Teyla awakens suddenly most mornings, heart beating too fast, limbs frozen, her breath harsh and loud in the silence, trying so hard not to cry. She focuses on the faint patterns drawn on the tent ceiling in the dim light, taking deep breathes in and out until the shaking stops. She waits until she can stand without falling or crying, and then she leaves her bed behind.   
  
As she splashes cold water over her face, she imagines washing away the memory of the Wraith. She dresses quickly in one of her mother’s old shirts, the material soft with age and wear. On these mornings she tries to clear her head by focusing on each movement of her body, on each task like her father taught her to keep calm.

Teyla takes one last deep breath before leaving the tent. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the forest. In the gray morning light, it is all too easy to see shadows coming through the mist. She hears a noise to her right and jumps. Kanaan approaches her slowly, a small smile flashes on his face when their eyes meet before he looks down. He brushes her arm on the way to the practice grounds. To her right, Halling stumbles out of his tent, still wiping the sleep from his eyes, and begins collecting the younger children from the tents.

  
The packed earth of the practice ground is cool and damp beneath her feet. Halling arranges the children in rows around her, the older ones behind them. Marjani and Gero bring the tea and everyone pauses to greet the day. They stretch and practice the simplest of fighting drills. She can feel the blood pumping in her veins, the nightmares and the fear fading. Teyla feels alive here. She feels powerful here.

In her dreams, they are helpless, scared and easy to pick off one by one. So she gathers them together to teach them. The words come easily; she has heard her father say similar things many times in meetings and gatherings on different worlds. Everyone here has lost mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, friends and neighbors. They are survivors. She tells them that the Wraith will come again and again and that they must be prepared. They cannot let the Wraith make them into easy targets because they are children. They have to depend on each other to survive the next culling and the one after that. They cannot live and die in fear.

Amara and Legan are their best trackers. The only survivors of the culling of their entire village, they managed to survive for weeks in the forest before anyone found them. Uncomfortable around too many people, they spend more time outside the camp than in it. Teyla has them plan the fastest routes out of their camp into safe hiding spots in the forest and hills. After the drills, they will lead the youngest children through them over and over until they can run it in darkness, half blind with terror.

  
The older children stay behind and practice fighting with the sticks. Nisa is their best fighter and one of the oldest of their group at seventeen seasons. She saw the life drained from each of her sisters and has not spoken a word since. Halling’s father saved her, only to be lost in the next culling saving four others. She leads through example, moving amongst the group, correcting a stance, shifting an arm higher. Teyla will continue to practice with her long after everyone has gone and with her father when he returns. For now they pair up and fight each other.

Kanaan is stronger and wins more often than not. They circle each other looking for weaknesses. Teyla focuses on blocking his attacks, looking for weaknesses in his defense and waiting for a moment to exploit them. She swings one stick towards his head and then the other to his torso. He blocks the first, and while he is distracted by the second, she kicks out, catches him unaware and lays him flat on the ground. Teyla crouches over him, one stick at his neck. He will most likely win the next round, but now she savors the look of shock and respect on Kanaan’s face, the warm smile and nod of approval from Nisa.

  
They are all older now, but not old enough yet. They will grow stronger and faster with time and practice. Soon this village, these people will be theirs to protect. When she dreams of this moment, sometimes she is the best leader. With Kanaan and Halling and Nisa at her side, no one is ever culled; no one is ever drained, and everyone is happy and dies old in their beds. In other dreams, everyone is culled, leaving her wandering the planet alone. Those dreams make her train harder, work harder to be calm and steady in any crisis.

When she closes her eyes every night, Teyla tries to remember running through the high grass with her brother, laughing and hiding from their mother and father chasing them. She thinks of Halling climbing so high to pull down fruit for them to eat on warm days and Nisa and her sisters singing beautifully during celebrations. Those times have gone; they have less time for play like that now, but the memories make it easier when the fear chokes her and it takes longer to relax, to laugh. Teyla still believes that one day it will all be worth it, things will be better, and when the Wraith come again she will be ready.

  
But for now, Kanaan is rising to his feet, ready for round two. They both grin at each other. Marjani is laughing at Halling’s attempt to beat Nisa with Doran clinging to his back. A few children race back from the forest, calling back taunts at Legan who is trying to catch them. Later her father will return from his trade mission and the adults from the fields. Charin will make tuttleroot soup for her. Everyone will sing and celebrate her fourteenth year alive and well.


End file.
